For Burnt Gold Eyes
by Queen Bookworm the First
Summary: QLFC Round 11: And she knows—oh, she knows it with more certainty than she's ever had—that it will be worth it. Her life would be worth all of it. They would both be willing to give up everything for those emerald green and burnt gold eyes, because that's all they can see when they try to sleep.


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round 11**

Team: Wimbourne Wasps

Position: Beater 2

**Prompt**: A character defects from the dark side to join the light (Restriction: not Snape or Regulus)

**Optional Prompts**:

8\. (color) emerald green

9\. (color) burnt gold

**AN**: This is an AU where the "Chosen One" prophecy is made a year earlier. Additionally, the story is told from the perspective of an OC called Natasha Wilkes, as Wilkes the Death Eater's gender was never specified.

* * *

She draws a breath in, screwing her eyes shut. _In and out, in and out, _she tells herself, chest heaving with the effort. The cries of the baby ring in her ears, unforgiving and seemingly endless.

Natasha meets her husband's eyes, her gaze latching onto the shred of light that gleamed in an otherwise onyx pool. His thin lips are pursed, a slash of pink on his pale face.

"He won't calm down," she whispers. She isn't sure who she was talking to—herself or Severus. Her knee jerks up and down, a soft pit pat against the wooden floor, up and down, up and down, until her entire body is shaking. The baby squalls louder, his tiny features scrunched up and red.

Severus clenches his jaw and places a hand on her knee, pressing down gently. "Stop shaking."

A muted whimper escapes from Natasha's lips. "I can't." She chances a glance at the baby and almost immediately looks away, a lump rising in her throat. "I _can't_."

"We chose this, Natasha," Severus says, his fingers closing over hers. He squeezes them so tightly that she feels he might break her bones, but she knows what he's doing—she knows that he's trying to distract her. "We chose this for _them._"

_Yes_, Natasha tells herself, _yes, we chose this for them. We chose this for two women, one with emerald green eyes and one with gold eyes._

And she knows—oh, she knows it with more certainty than she's ever had—that it will be worth it. Her life would be worth all of it. They would both be willing to give up everything for those emerald green and burnt gold eyes, because that's all they can see when they try to sleep.

* * *

_Eighteen Months Ago_

Natasha pulls the hood of her cloak down, her brown, tightly wound curls tumbling out. She huffs in irritation as she tucks them behind her ear. Glancing around the dark alley, she quickly raps her knuckles against the door five times.

She holds her breath as she waits, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Her fingers scramble for her wand in her pocket as the door opens. Severus Snape stands before her, his lip curled into a sneer—an awful habit of his.

Natasha arches an eyebrow at him. "Well, are you going to invite me in?"

Snape sneers even more—Natasha doesn't even _know_ if that's possible—and says, "Come in." His voice is biting and disdainful. He turns around, his cloak sweeping behind him in an almost theatrical arc.

Natasha bites her lip, holding back a scathing remark, and she follows him down the tiny hallway. He gestures into the living room. Natasha curls her lip as she sits down on the mangy sofa gingerly. She eyes the room critically, gaze scanning over the meager furnishing. A few dusty books lie on the coffee table, and an empty potion vial stands precariously on the edge, the glass slightly stained green.

"I need an Vow," Snape says, startling her out of her examination.

Natasha's head snaps up. "A _what_?"

He sits in the armchair across from her, his face unmoving. "An Unbreakable Vow."

Her eyebrows flick up. "What are you getting me into, Snape?"

"I cannot tell you anything until you submit to a Vow."

Natasha worries at her lip. "And how do I know that I won't die because of this… this Vow?"

"I believe you are familiar with the terms of an Unbreakable Vow," Snape says, his voice imperious and slow as if he were talking to a particularly dumb student.

Natasha's fingers twitch around her wand.

"As long as you do not go against the terms of the Vow, your life will not be forfeit."

"And what will be the terms?" she asks, leaning forward, her elbows perched on her knees.

"You will not expose any of the information I will reveal to you to anyone unless I give you my explicit permission. If you choose to not be part of what I tell you, you will submit to being Obliviated. You may not agree and go behind my back to hinder my efforts, or else you will _die._" He crushes her under his gaze. "And I assure you, it will not be a quick or painless death."

Natasha blinks and inhales sharply. "Well… _damn_, Snape." Her knee begins to shake—it's a bad habit that Natasha's never been able to shake off when she's nervous.

Snape rises from his chair and stalks forward, pulling out his wand. "Do you agree to these terms?"

She considers the thought in her head. Whatever Snape's doing, it's dangerous—and Natasha can't afford to do dangerous things, not while she's already under the Dark Lord's scrutiny for being too merciful.

_But I can back out if I don't like it_, she reminds herself. _He'll Obliviate me and it'll be like it never even happened._

So she nods once and stands up, extending a shaking arm.

The cold tip of Snape's wand presses against her inner wrist before it gives way to the searing pain of the Unbreakable Vow, and she hisses as he lists the terms out again and she stammers again and again, "Yes."

And then he tells her, and Natasha's world crumbles.

He tells her of a prophecy.

He tells her that Lily Potter is no longer safe, his eyes softening at the memory of her emerald green eyes.

And he tells her that Alice Longbottom is no longer safe.

That is when Natasha starts to care, because Alice was her friend, Alice with her warm burnt gold eyes, Alice with her bubbly laughs and unjudging smile, Alice with her keen eyes that noticed when Natasha came to school with bruises from her father's beatings, Alice with her huge heart that _cared_.

So Natasha says yes. She says yes, she will defy the Dark Lord three times. She says yes because Alice would have said yes for her.

* * *

_Thirteen Months Ago_

Natasha stares at the blue light glowing at the tip of her wand, her hand almost instinctively going to her stomach.

She's pregnant.

_Pregnant with Snape's child_

The events of the past few months crash down upon her as she collapses onto the tiled floor of the bathroom.

First, they refused to torture and kill a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Second, they spit in the face of the Dark Lord and fled to the Order headquarters, where the emerald green of Natasha's House didn't draw as many admiring glances as the emerald green of Lily Potter's eyes.

Then they met the Dark Lord in battle, barely surviving a torrent of _Avada Kedavra_s.

And now she is pregnant, at just the right time.

It is all too much for Natasha to take, and she knows this as tears roll down her cheeks, as she stares at the stomach where a new life is growing.

But it is for Alice, so she'll go on. She'll cry in the bathroom, she'll feel like she's going to die under the pressure, but she'll go on for Alice.

* * *

_Present Time_

Natasha rocks back and forth, trying to shut out the sounds of her son's wails. Thunder booms outside and wind rips through the branches of trees, banging against the window in powerful gusts. Lightning illuminates the room for a fraction of a second, and she can see her terrified reflection in the mirror.

But she reminds herself of Alice, and so she sits with burnt gold eyes scorched into her memory as they wait for the Dark Lord to pay them a visit.


End file.
